


Harry Potter and the Impossible Drunk

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7089076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is an exhausting, annoying, impossible drunk. But Harry knows how to handle him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Potter and the Impossible Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> Just a wee bit of fluff to brighten my day. Written for Draco's Birthday Fest on Livejournal.

Harry grumbled and muttered to himself as he manoeuvred his sullen, teetering burden down the mercifully empty street.  
  
“You know, this is my fault. Why do I let you out of my sight at all? Why do I assume that you’re going to behave yourself just this once?”   
  
“Yer ssstupid, is why,” was the sulky response he got, and Harry was basically out of patience now.  
  
He steadied them both and propped his drunken flatmate up against the wall, mustering up the sternest look he could under these ridiculous circumstances. “Don’t you get smart with me,” he scolded, jabbing at Draco’s chest. “It was one dinner, Draco. Hermione was counting on me to talk up her research on Defence Spells to the DMLE. Instead, I had to drop everything and fish you out from under the bar!”  
  
Draco just huffed and kicked sullenly at the pavement. He looked distinctly like a scolded schoolboy, right down to the pouting and the tousled, scruffy appearance. His hair was all over the place. His laces were undone. His shirt was riding down one side, exposing a pale shoulder. Harry flushed, when he realised he’d been staring. He started to reach out and right his flatmate’s clothing, sighing in exasperation when Draco batted his hands away.  
  
“Don’ need your help, stupid Potter,” he grumbled, as he fumbled unsuccessfully with the buttons. “Goin’ home now and…an’ don’ need _you_ to come! G’bye!”  
  
“I live with you, berk,” Harry groaned as Draco began meandering down the street. “We’re going the same way.”  
  
“Oh. Righ’.” Draco paused to consider his options. “Then…then you c’n go live somewhere else! Yeah! Go live with _Weasley_ ‘stead a me. Like ‘im better anyway, see if I care…”  
  
He kept up the spiel of sulky muttering as he flounced off. As far as dramatic exits went, it wasn’t half bad…until he tripped over his own feet and went sprawling face first into the pavement.  
  
“Shite,” Harry cursed, just about managing to cast a Cushioning Charm before Draco really hurt himself. He jogged over to help and was both annoyed and frustrated when Draco curled up like a belligerent cat. Harry sighed and raked a hand through his hair. Honestly, he was half considering Side-Along Apparition, Draco’s sloshed state be damned. Yeah, it was risky but Draco wasn’t making this easy anyway.   
  
Still, maybe he could reason with him. For a Slytherin, Draco was surprisingly susceptible to emotional manipulation when he was drunk.  
  
“So, you’re really kicking me out?” Harry asked, in a soft voice. He was crouching beside Draco now, making no move to touch him but keeping a close eye, just in case he needed help. “That hurts, you know,” he went on, letting a bit of hurt carry over in his tone. “But if you don’t want to live with me anymore, I can look for another place tomorrow…”  
  
“No.”  
  
Harry bit back on a grin. _Works every time._ “Sorry, what was that?”  
  
Draco glared blearily at him. _“No,”_ he repeated firmly. “Not going anywhere, shtupid git.”  
  
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise as skinny arms wrapped around him in a rather possessive hug. He hid a smile into Draco’s shoulder and patted his back gently, ignoring the annoyed huff that elicited.   
  
“Well, okay,” he agreed amiably. “In that case, I guess…you should take me home?”  
  
“Guess so…”  
  
Draco pulled away, and his dazed eyes narrowed a fraction. He was starting to get suspicious, Harry could just see the thought flare in those pretty, silver eyes. But he still had one more weapon in his arsenal. Drunk Draco had a soft spot for him, certainly. But he had an even bigger weakness for sweets.  
  
“Maybe we can get Sugar Quills on the way.” Harry threw the suggestion out idly, like it didn’t matter. He pretended not to notice when Draco cocked his head in interest.  
  
There was a beat of silence.  
  
Then…  
  
“If you wan’,” Draco offered graciously, with a rather exaggerated shrug. “C’mon then, Pothead. Take you home b’fore you start makin’ trouble…”  
  
Harry didn’t even bother hiding his chuckles as he helped Draco up. And if he had to steer Draco in the right direction a few times while he ‘took them home’, he made sure to do it discreetly.  
  


* * *

  
Harry heaved a sigh of relief as the key turned and he was finally, finally inside his flat. Merlin, he had never been so glad to be home. It was much easier to lead Draco in, now that he was all tired out from his adventures. Not to mention, he had that Sugar Quill to distract him while Harry ushered him gently on the couch and sat him down.  
  
Big, silver eyes peeked at Harry from behind that messy fringe. Harry smiled and smoothed Draco’s messy hair down, a bit surprised by the sudden rush of tenderness he was feeling. Draco arched into his touch, humming around the Sugar Quill. Harry chuckled and shook his head fondly.  
  
“Stay here. I’ll get you some water, yeah?” he said gently. “You shouldn’t go to bed dehydrated.”  
  
He hadn’t even been in the kitchen for ten seconds when he heard footsteps pattering behind him. Pale, thin arms wrapped around his waist and Harry sighed, too tired to even bother with exasperation at this point.  
  
“Draco, what did I _just_ say about staying in the living room? Must you…”  
  
“Didn’ mean it.”  
  
Harry paused his lecture as a pointy forehead thunked against his shoulder blades. For Godric’s sake, what was he upset about now? Harry managed to loosen his flatmate’s grip enough to turn and herd Draco into his arms again.  
  
“Didn’t mean what?” he asked.  
  
Draco raised his head to look at him. There was still a faint dusting of sugar on his lips, Harry noticed and it made him smile again. “You didn’t mean what, Draco?” he coaxed gently.  
  
Draco sniffed and curled into him, hooking his hands into Harry’s shirt. “Don’ go live with Weasley,” he mumbled miserably. “Please?”  
  
Oh.  
  
Harry’s heart surged and he tightened his grip on the slim body in his arms. “I’m not going anywhere, Draco,” he murmured into soft, blond hair. “I’ll stay right here with you, okay?”  
  
Of course he would. Merlin knows what trouble Draco would get up to if he was left unsupervised. No, Harry was stuck with the troublesome git and he was stuck good.  
  
Still, there were worse fates.  
  
On an impulse, he leaned in to press a kiss to Draco’s forehead. Draco seemed to have a similar idea, though. Harry managed a surprised gasp as soft, sugar dusted lips intercepted his. Draco’s arms crept up to his neck and he hummed happily against Harry’s lips, arching against him like he planned to wrap himself around him.  
  
When Draco’s hands started to wander, Harry carefully pried him off. “No,” he chided, when Draco scowled indignantly at him. “Not like this, okay?”  
  
There was no way he was taking this further with Draco as sloshed as he was. Harry was mentally preparing for another tantrum when Draco finally spoke up.  
  
“Kay,” he mumbled, surprisingly acquiescent for once. Big, hopeful eyes darted to Harry’s face. “Tomorrow?”  
  
And Merlin, if that didn’t make his heart swell with affection. Harry smiled and pressed a fond kiss to Draco’s forehead, taking the opportunity to lead him to his bedroom.  
  
As an afterthought, he Summoned a vial of Hangover Potion and left it on Draco’s desk before tucking him into bed. Draco sighed in relief as he sank in his covers. He was asleep in minutes. Harry waited a few minutes to make sure he was really out of it. Then he brushed a careful hand over Draco’s fringe and stole back out, to his own bedroom.  
  
 _Tomorrow,_ he thought to himself as he finally sank into his own bed.   
  
And as exhausting and infuriating as the night had been, Harry fell asleep with a smile on his lips.


End file.
